


From These Emerald Waters

by thewightknight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Drowning, Flashbacks, M/M, now and then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 02:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Amell almost drowned when he was thirteen. He almost drowned again ten years later. He never got to thank his rescuer the first time, but the second time is a little different.





	From These Emerald Waters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vixilancia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixilancia/gifts).



> Thanks to [Vixilancia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixilancia/pseuds/Vixilancia) for letting me drag their [Amell](https://vixilancia.tumblr.com/post/172255047022/a-gentle-giant) into my sandbox! 
> 
> "Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings" is checked because this fic centers around one of the characters almost drowning and it's written from his POV. Everybodylives/nobodydies, but I want you, the readers, to not be taken by surprise or possibly triggered.

_Is this really happening? This is how I’m going to die? I knew I should have learned how to swim._

He’d embraced the Grey Warden armor after a lifetime of robes. Pants! How glorious! But the weight of wet fabric had nothing on metal plate and chainmail. He didn’t bother trying to shed his boots. What was the point? They were just a drop in the metaphorical bucket, a few extra pounds on top of everything else, dragging him to the bottom of the grotto.

 _Probably not getting out of drowning this time,_ he thought as the darkenss closed around him. _I'm sorry, Liora._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Bet you can’t!”

“Bet I can!”

Amell had gotten into so much trouble since coming to the Circle because of such exchanges, after his fellow apprentices had learned that he’d never back down from a dare.

“Monsters’ll get you,” Jowan muttered, shivering as he looked out over the lake.

“There aren’t any such things. Templars just tell us that to scare us!” Amell protested, suppressing his own shiver.

“Well, then, what are you waiting for? Or are you too scared?” Nigi sneered.

“For them to stop watching us, so you need to shut up!”

The templars on the docks had turned to look at them, so the group of apprentices that had gathered around them dispersed, trying to look casual. Nigi stuck to Amell’s side, continuing to egg Amell on under his breath as they each picked up a handful of rocks and started trying to skip them across the water’s surface.

“It’s not that far,” he said, trying to convince himself. It looked further now than when they’d first started talking about it, the dock on the other side of the lake, next to the tavern.

“Quick. They’re not looking. Now’s your chance!”

Glancing over his shoulder, he confirmed that the templars’ attention had wandered. They’d settled down on a couple of overturned crates and one of them had pulled out a set of cards.

“Now or never, unless you’re going to chicken out.”

“Yeah, right.” Before he could talk some sense into himself, he wiggled out of his robes and waded into the water. He’d read the section in the book he’d found in the library four times. He’d practiced floating in the bathtub and put his face in the water to blow bubbles. The book described how you were supposed to scissor your legs and reach out your arms with your hands cupped to propel you. How hard could it be? “Just make sure everyone keeps quiet. Don’t want them interrupting.”

He waded into the water, staring down at his feet so he wouldn’t slip on one of the slimy rocks that lurked beneath the surface. Ahead of him he could see where the water changed from blue-green to black, marking the drop-off where the rise of land the tower had been built on ended. He reached it all too quickly, and shoved off the edge, saying a prayer as he took his first stroke.

Everything went wrong all at the same time. His legs sank instead of floating, and when he tried his first stroke he splashed himself in the face, choking on the water. As he started to sink, he found himself trying to press down on the water with his arms. He managed to bob up enough to get his mouth above water and gasped for breath, but before he could call for help he sank again. No one seemed to have noticed his predicament.

When he pictured someone drowning, he always thought there would be lots of thrashing and crying for help. _They probably think I’m still working up my nerve,_ he thought. He tried to turn around but only managed to dunk himself. _I’m gonna die,_ was his next thought. _All because of a stupid dare._ Following on the heels of that, _I hope I come back and haunt Nigi._

If only his body would move. If his legs would kick, if his arms could flail, but it felt like someone had cast petrify on him. Throwing back his head in an attempt to keep his mouth above the waterline, he gasped in another breath, then sobbed it back out again when he heard splashes behind him, and the Templars yelling.

An arm circled his chest and pulled. He got another face full of water and the arm tightened around him.

“Just a little bit more. C’mon. Stay with me.” He didn’t recognize the voice, but it sounded young. Another apprentice?

When he felt the rocks under his feet again he tried to stand but his legs still refused to work. His rescuer continued to drag him along, one hand around his waist and one of Amell’s arms draped over his shoulders. A fit of coughing overcame him and he staggered, almost pulling them both over.

"Andraste's Knickerweasels!" his rescuer spat out, steadying them both. The curse was so unexpected, and so ridiculous, that he started to laugh, which triggered another fit of coughing. By this time they were almost to the shore, the water lapping around their ankles, and the templars charged forward, grabbing him and knocking his rescuer aside.

“You’re welcome!” Amell heard from behind him as they dragged him back to the tower. He tried to turn to get a look at his savior, but he couldn’t see around the templars that had him by each arm.

He didn’t really listen to Senior Enchanter Leorah as she dressed him down for his stunt, concentrating on keeping his teeth from chattering instead. Whatever it was she said, though, the end result was he was never allowed him within a hundred yards of the lake again, until the day he stepped into the boat with Duncan.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The day had started so well. They were on their way back from the Knotwood Hills, battered but victorious. Sigrun’s dry humor had kept them all chuckling, distracting them all from their various bruises and aches. Anders and Oghren bickered good naturedly, still not tired of needling each other. They had picked up enough gold and small trinkets to make Mistress Woolsey happy and he had a roll of rubbings from various monuments that the dwarves would do cartwheels over. The sun shone down on them and Anders kept flashing him these huge grins that warmed him to the core. And then he’d slipped.

The trail they’d been following dipped into a wooded grove that circled a grotto. Ferns lined the path and lichens trailed down from the rocks, and the trees along this portion blocked out the sun so the mud from the previous day’s rainfall hadn’t dried out. He’d turned to catch something Nathaniel had said and his foot had landed on a particularly slimy bit and the next thing he knew he’d gone over the ledge and was sliding down the incline to the pool at the bottom of the grotto.

He’d had enough time to take one huge gulp of air before he splashed into the pool but that wasn’t going to last long. His armor pulled him down. In vain he reached towards the dwindling spot of light, fingers grasping at the water as he sank further and further into the depths.

Precious air escaped at his gasp when a dark figure burst through the water. He kicked, stretching out, as the person neared. He couldn’t make out the features, his rescuer’s form backlit from above, until they were nearly on top of him. Anders. Anders, stripped down to his shift and trousers, with a knife clenched between his teeth.

Spots began to dance at the edges of his vision as Anders sliced through the straps on his armor. Anders scored his ribs on one side in his haste and he bit his lip to keep from crying out, not wanting to lose another precious breath. As the chestplate fell away, disappearing beneath them, Anders dropped the knife and wrapped his arms around Amell’s waist. He focused on two things – Anders against his back and the pressure in his lungs. His body screamed at him to take a breath. It felt like his throat had caught fire. The bright patch of water above them grew as they got closer and closer to the surface. Just when he thought he couldn’t last one more second they burst through the surface of the pool.

Anders lay back, floating, cradling him as he drew in great shuddering breaths.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got him!” The last was shouted, and he heard answering shouts from above.

“Hang on. We’ll find a way down to you. Just stay there.”

“Yeah,” Amell chuckled, hysteria lurking at the edges of his consciousness. “We’ll just stay right here.” It was kind of nice, now that he wasn’t drowning anymore, floating here in the pool with Anders’ arms around him. Except the water was freezing cold and Anders arms were doing nothing to keep his feet warm.

“Going to get us to shore now, okay? Just relax.”

“Where’d you learn to swim?” he asked as Anders started kicking, moving them backwards.

“Grew up next to a lake. Learned to swim almost before I could walk.”

That one sentence was the most information Anders had ever volunteered about his life, pre-Circle. Amell stored it away like a rare treasure.

“We’re going to have to pull ourselves out of here, it seems. Can you manage?”

They found a spot with some overhanging roots and with Anders’ help Amell managed to drag himself out of the water. He resisted the urge to kiss the mossy ground he collapsed onto.

“Andraste's Knickerweasels! Thought we’d lost you there,” Anders gasped as he collapsed next to him, and something clicked.

“That was you. At the tower that day. You saved me from drowning then too, didn’t you?”

“I did? Wait. That was you?”

He would have laughed at the expression on Anders’ face if he’d had the energy to spare.

“That’s twice I owe you now, then, I guess?”

“Well, let’s see now. You took me away from the Circle and saved me from the angry Templar lady, so I think we’re even.”

“I still think the balance owed is on my side.”

“You got me a cat.”

“Well, there is that.” He did have the energy to laugh after all. It was a sad excuse for a chuckle, but it brought an answering chortle from Anders so it was good.

“But first chance we get,” Anders said as he managed to insinuate his arm around Amell’s shoulders, “I’m teaching you how to swim.”

“Liora too?” He didn’t want his daughter to ever experience what he’d gone through twice now, and Anders had said he’d learned as a baby.

“Liora too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing.


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